The Girl With Emerald Eyes
by Hanna.bananna
Summary: Have you ever heard the saying, "If walls had eyes...?" One shot
_Have you ever heard the saying, "If walls had eyes...?"_

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Once there was a young girl who never experienced _real_ change; she had gone to only one school until third grade, never moved, and had only been in two different states throughout the course of her entire life. One day that all changed—the day before third grade, to be exact. She thought that she had it all figured out: have the same friends through school, be the rebellious girl with good grades and be liked by as many as possible, and ward off any punishment with a single look of innocence. That plan went down the drain as soon as she stepped into her new prep school. The transition of public to charter school—it was difficult to say the least. She wasn't used to the people, learning techniques, uniforms, rules, _or the restrictions._ Once she walked into the strict environment, she knew she was out of her element. Everything was just _different_ , to say the least. During the tour of the school, her eyes immediately fixed themselves on me and that's when I knew she was different. No one seems to ever notice me because of my abnormal silence. They just don't understand. I can picture this moment perfectly because of that. Her eyes, if I remember correctly, were the exact shade of green as me. Like an impeccable emerald. She seemed to be intrigued by what was written on me, but no one else ever was. After glancing me over a couple of times, I eventually felt her lose interest and look away. I soon realized it would always be like this and the hope that was built up in me burst, numbing my soul with nothing but a dull ache left in place of the hope. Nobody would ever really care. Nobody would ever really _know_.

All through my life I had never known what it was like to really live. I never knew what it was like to socialize, to travel, or to fall in love, but in a strange way, I feel like I live through the children of this school. Every day I hear snippets of conversation as they pass through the halls. Whether it's about schoolwork, jokes, family/friend drama, or their cute little kid crushes, I always listen and dedicate my life to them, because I feel that if I don't, I will subconsciously fall in a deep, dark hole that I will not be able to escape from that would gradually destroy me, piece by piece. I wouldn't even realize what was happening until it's too late, and I'm in too deep to escape, the darkness drowning me in my seemingly never ending loneliness.

Whenever someone passes by me and is exceedingly happy, I like to believe that I told them a joke that made them laugh—that I was the one who made them happy. These little moments seem to give me the courage to keep going, even if I know I'm just lying to myself. Sometimes when people stop at the water fountain near me, I make up conversations in my head that I might one day have with them, only to watch them leave and never say goodbye.

From pre-k to the year before their first day of high school, I watch these kids, never uttering a single word. Eventually, they all leave. They always do. Each year I have to say goodbye to the young adults that will leave this building and never come back. I have grown a strong attachment to each and every one of them and my heart breaks a little at the thought of them never returning. I want more than anything for the connection to be mutual because when they leave, a small part of me leaves too, but they never will. On their last day, I see even the strongest break. Ten years of their lives they have spent here. On their last day, I see all of their memories written on their faces, good and bad. Their first day of school, the first time they lost a tooth, their first dance, their first day of middle school, their last day of elementary, the last time they lost a tooth, their last middle school dance, and their last day of middle school. Many emotions cloud everyone's faces, three in particular: nostalgia, excitement, and fear. Some of them are crying, the nostalgia too great for any of them to handle. Some are sadly smiling, sad at the idea of leaving their friends, but excited at the idea of the future. Even if they don't know it, I can tell everyone is at least a little scared. Scared at leaving their memories. Scared at leaving their comfort zone. Scared at not knowing what will come next.

That is when I see that young girl once again. Her eyes are sad, but no tears come and I know none will. She walks toward me when no one is around and leans up against me. "I'm gonna miss you." she says. I know she wasn't speaking directly to me, but it still warms my heart. If I could, I'd smile. _I know._


End file.
